BurbleChaz

The guys with the freight turned up early. Their office had promised that they would be here between 0900 and 0930. The doorbell went at 0830. By a miracle, I was not only out of the shower, but dressed when they arrived.

The Building Management people had promised to be there to give us sole access to a lift with protective curtains set up. This didn't happen soI used a mixture of physical presence, sweet smiles and a worryingly deep knowledge of the lift system control software to get us what we wanted: 46 packages moved from a truck in Bourke Street to our flat.

We made the two blokes who brought the stuff unpack it, too. They kept bleating about the free service to take the packing material away. We kept smiling sweetly and nodding. "That's nice" we said. "Only another fifteen boxes to go. Chop chop." They did it. I gave them beer.

We cooked another kangaroo this evening. It was so much more fun to work with our own tools. I kept catching myself thinking 'properly, I'd use {utensil}', then I'd reach for {utensil} and use it. After weeks of butchering meat with blunt knives, a sharp Sabatier is a treat.

I booted the laptop that I had set up to be my Unix workstation. It is hard to express the happiness and contentment that I get from sitting at a Real Computer. Then it crashed. Hard. It can't see it's hard disk any more.

While I waited for some nefarious tricks to run on the desperately sick Unix machine, I phoned around for a quote for replacement wheels for the bike. $550.That's 225 Pounds. Ouch. The bike only cost 500 pounds

It's good to have our stuff back. We've found places to store most of it. All we need now is a MacBook Pro, a Unix workstation, two decent bikes, two ratty Lasers and a partridge in a pear tree.

In the meantime, we have sharp knives.